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And then I hear his voice, ringing out as clear as birdsong in the morning. He's calling my name. He's out there, and he needs me to find him.

And that's all it takes.

A bright light shines upon the recesses of my heart, illuminating the truth that I've been withholding from myself—the realization that my vow was always doomed to be broken because of my true destiny.

I'd thought that I could live a thousand lives and never have a greater honor than being Jackson's Guardian. I was wrong. Thereisa greater honor.

And it's to love him.

The voice of the darkness screams in my mind, trying to regain its influence over my thoughts, but I shut it out, and the terrible memory surrounding me vanishes into dust. I'm enshrouded in a suffocating nothingness. I hear Jackson shouting for me again, and I force through the thick darkness to find my way to him.

"Jackson!" I scream.

I will never stop fighting for him.

Jackson

I pull back the tarp, and with it the entire vision drops like a theater curtain. I'm no longer at the Malyi Sorych battlefront.

Looking around, I immediately recognize the mural painted on a nearby wall—a scene of children reading books beneath a whimsical cloud filled with colorful animals, airplanes, knights, princesses, historical figures, and drifting musical notes. They demolished this building the year before I finished elementary school. The mural went with it.

Kids run around the blacktop. Some play hopscotch, others smack a tetherball around a pole. A group of boys play kickball. Recess. To my right are the temporary bungalows where I took my third and fourth grade classes. What the hell am I doing here?

The sound of laughter from somewhere behind the bungalows catches my attention, and I'm hit by an intense feeling of déjà vu. I know this moment, but I can't remember why. It's like finding missing photos in the attic. I don't have many memories of this time in my life.

Following the sound, I have the sense that I'm walking in my own footsteps. Thisissomething I've lived before.

There. In the shadow of the bungalow, three boys have cornered another kid. His backpack lies split open on the ground—books, papers, and his lunchbox are scattered across the pavement.

Aaron Lee. A name I'd completely forgotten pops into my head.

He was a transfer student from another state, and for some reason, all the kids used to give him shit. Maybe because he was smarter than them, or because he was a little shorter than everyone else, or something about his parents... I can't remember, and it doesn't matter. Kids sometimes don't have a reason to be cruel.

I liked Aaron. I liked his brown eyes, his glasses, and the way he smiled. I liked everything about him. I wanted him to notice me. The first times I tried to make friends, he always shut me out. It didn't bother me. I don't think it registered as rejection—I just kept trying. I was always the one complimenting his projects, asking if he wanted to partner up, and seeing if he would walk home from school with me. It didn't matter that he said no; I was just happy to talk to him. And eventually, he let me in. It was the happiest day of my life when he agreed to walk home with me. I was in heaven the day I worked up the courage to reach over and hold his hand.

One of the bullies kicks Aaron's lunchbox, and sends the nested containers and a pair of baby-blue chopsticks clattering across the ground. Pieces of chicken and bits of rice splatter onto Aaron's pants. The rest of the group laughs.

A voice from behind me shouts out, "Hey, dumbasses!"

The boys all turn to look, and so do I.

It's me. A fourth grade me, standing there looking pissed off.

And then suddenly, I remember what this was all about. It's amazing how some memories can fade naturally over time, and how some you force yourself to forget. This one, I'd tried to forget, along with Aaron's entire existence. But I guess no memory can be truly forgotten. They can only be submerged in the archives of your mind, tucked away in a dusty corner waiting to be dredged back up at the worst possible time.

The boys look surprised, or even a little nervous, but when the leader goes, "Oooh," all the others join him.

"Look, it's hisboyfriend," the leader says, emphasizing the word in a sing-song voice. "Leelee needs a rescue from his boyfriend."

"Leelee needs a rescue, Leelee needs a rescue," the others sing.

"Shut up!" Aaron shouts.

"Oooh, he's mad," taunts the leader. "It must be true. Why don't you give him a kiss?"

"Leave him alone," I say. "Or I'll mess you up."

The leader is big. I'm pretty sure he was held back a grade. But I don't back down, even when he comes right up to me. The otherboys are nervous again. It's clear they don't want to get into a real fight.